For the prompt at Poets United – Neighbors.


We live out in the country on a deadend,
cul de sac’ed road.
There are eight different families on this road.
The houses are separated by thick hedges, not fences.
We wave when passing a car or each other
on our morning walks.
We keep to ourselves.
It is a quiet road with no children.
Pets stay in the houses or in their yards.
But when my mother died,
somehow they knew.
A jar of homemade jam tied to the doorknob,
A bouquet delivered to my door,
several cards stuck in the mailbox.
I share tomatoes when I have extra,
they share extra cucumbers and squash.
My favorite kind of neighbors –
unobtrusive, quiet, polite,
casually friendly –
but there when you need them.


The Errant Stars

For Kerry’s Prompt over at Real Toads – Camera Flash!  I will also be posting this on Poetry Pantry.


The Errant Stars
On the other side of twilight
errant stars begin to twinkle
in the bloodstained West –
A feeling of grey covers the earth
and birds go silent.
The wind sloughs across
the fields of gold
the same way it blows over the sea.
The wheat ripples
and the sound is like
that of the sea.
A silver ribbon stream sings its way
to the bottom of the hill,
reflecting the silent sky.
But birds are quiet now
and errant stars twinkle in
the bloodstained west –
And grey turns to black
over the murmuring sea.

Crepuscule – Heinrich Kuhn (1897)

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